


Clouds On the Horizon

by bumblebest (cottage_wife)



Category: Dream SMP/ Video Blogging RPF, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, Canon Relationships, Dream Team SMP Spoilers, Family Issues, Floris | Fundy Has Daddy Issues, Gen, Ghostbur, Manipulation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Toxic Relationships, Unhealthy Relationships, also skephalo bc we love, badboyhalo is a badboybadass, every l'manberg arc, i have so much work to do for this, lot of pog, sally the salmon but she's just mentioned, the relationships are only in the fic for backstory, this is based on the Dream SMP CHARACTERS PLZ DON'T ATTACK ME, we don't like jschlatt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:15:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28435965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cottage_wife/pseuds/bumblebest
Summary: Every bad decision Wilbur madeEvery similarity Tubbo has with SchlattEvery time Fundy is left by those who love himEvery time Tommy puts himself firstthe future gets a little bit more bleak.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	1. Little Soldier Boy

**Author's Note:**

> so basically I made headcanons for the canonical events in the dream smp that were never really covered, but it's told like a real story. 
> 
> i made the dream smp angsty because I can.

Wilbur closed his suitcase roughly, struggling with the latches as he pressed down heavily on the lid. He sighed and picked up his guitar. After examining it for a moment, he gently slung it over his back and adjusted the strap with his back still to the door.

“Will?”

Wilbur turned around to see Philza leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. The man pursed his lips and gazed at his son, a look of pity in his tired eyes. Wilbur shook his head subtly.

“You don’t have to do this,” Philza stepped in front of him, blocking the young man from leaving the room. Wilbur scoffed to himself. This was exactly the kind of behavior that made him want to leave in the first place, the stifling atmosphere and the way his father tried to force him to bend to his will, even if it went against what Wilbur wanted. 

He pushed past Philza and took a sad look around the house covered in memories from far away times. He dragged his finger along some of the scratches in the various handmade wood furniture they had. Wilbur knew the story of almost every single mark. He chuckled softly as his hand graced over two small divots that Technoblade had made when his teeth were aching and gnawing on the table was the only relief he could find. 

“Think about your brothers, Will.” 

“Tommy and Tubbo?” Wilbur ran his thumb over a scuff on the wall, “they have you. And Techno. Won’t miss me too much.” The words left a sour taste in his mouth and he knew that saying them would make leaving easier. 

“Don’t say that. You don’t mean it.”

“Yeah? And what would you do if I really did?” Wilbur bitterly kicked a wooden toy truck out of the way, holding his suitcase under his arm to unlock the heavy front door. He ignored the way it landed sadly on its side, one wheel still spinning pitifully in the air as if it begged an apology. He didn’t feel like apologizing today. 

“Snap out of it, Will,” Philza growled and Wilbur turned, narrowing his eyes as the man stepped closer. 

“Why do you care so much?” He rolled his eyes and impatiently tapped his foot, watching as sadness replaced the anger in his father’s eyes. 

“Because. You’re my son.” Philza said simply, moving towards Wilbur with one hand slightly outstretched. 

The brunette ducked out of his grasp, subconsciously guarding himself with his suitcase. Shock flashed across his father’s face. “No. You don’t get to play that card with me, Philza. You lost the privilege to call me that when you cast me aside, time and time again.” Wilbur rolled his eyes. “You really don’t get it, do you?” he said, the slightest tinge of exasperation in his words. 

“Wil-”

“Every time you pushed me away, every single time you favored Technoblade and Tommy and Tubbo, I took that to heart. Phil, all I ever wanted was your approval. It’s the only thing I’ve ever searched for. But you just didn’t care,” Wilbur blinked away the wetness accumulating in his eyes, “you were always busy. You never had time for me.”

He looked away as small tears fell down Philza’s face and focused his attention on an interesting-looking swirl pattern on the door’s window. “And now it’s too late.” Wilbur pushed open the door and stared into the rain gently falling outside. “I love you. But you have to let me do this.”

“I know,” Philza softly walked up next to him and Wilbur let him put his calloused hand on his shoulder, surprising himself when he didn’t shrug it off, “I know, Will. That doesn’t make it any less painful.” 

Wilbur continued to stare off into the forest, letting Philza take the stage and say what was on his heart. His father knew he was listening and slowly spoke again, not wanting to scare Wilbur off. 

“I mean, were you planning on leaving without even saying goodbye to your brothers? They would never forgive themselves if they let you do that, especially Tommy.” Philza cleared his throat quietly, “he looks up to you. Kid wants to be just like you when he gets older. Did I tell you he picked up my guitar the other day and tried to play it? When I asked him what he was doing, he told me he wanted to be able to ‘jam out’ with you. He loves you, Will; they all do. And did you really want to leave without them knowing?”

“I figured it’d be easier,” Wilbur said lowly, feeling ashamed that the thought even crossed his mind, “told myself they wouldn’t miss me very much.” He finally looked at Philza, eyes shimmering with unshed tears, who pulled him into a tight hug, and Wilbur let himself be enveloped. His father murmured soft apologies into his collarbone, both men shocked at his sudden break in his usual stoic nature. 

“I was foolish to think that’d ever be true,” Wilbur admitted. Even against the pattering rain, the squeals and shrieks of his younger brothers’ sounded almost melodic as they echoed throughout the woods surrounding them. For once, he felt a sliver of what it was like to be home. 

Philza released him, holding Wilbur by his shoulders, smiling at him. He dried his eyes on his long sleeve and reached up to brush a tear off of Wilbur’s blotchy face with his thumb. “Let’s go see them, yeah? Have a chance to say goodbye.” And Wilbur nodded at him, the trace of a smile flickering across his cheeks. 

Philza straightened his bucket hat and stepped off the porch into the rain. He called for Tommy and Tubbo loudly, letting his voice reverberate against the trees. Wilbur knew that while they could be disobedient, the two would always listen to their father. 

Sure enough, Tommy crashed into the clearing, followed by a soaking wet and giggling Tubbo. The blonde boy was covered in mud, yelling unintelligible swears at his still-laughing brother and gesturing wildly with a stick that had to have been taller than he was. Looking at them almost made Wilbur regret his decision to leave. 

Tubbo noticed him first, catching his eye and slightly tilting his head with curiosity at his brother’s suitcase. He nudged Tommy with his arm, who turned his head and opened his mouth to say the question Wilbur desperately wanted to avoid.

“Why’ve you got your shit with you?” Not that exact phrasing, he thought to himself sadly.

Wilbur took a deep breath and tried to look as apologetic as he could to answer his brother. “I’m going away, Tommy. Leaving the nest. But you don’t need to feel bad, I’ll write as often as I can, I promise.”

“But why are you leaving us?” Tubbo asked in a small voice, punctuating his sentence with a tiny sniff. Wilbur felt his heart crack inside his chest as he watched tears well up in the boy’s eyes. 

“I have to, Tubbo-in-a-box, you’ll understand when you’re older.” Tubbo practically threw himself into Wilbur’s arms, sobbing softly as the brunette stroked his hair comfortingly. He looked up to find Tommy standing awkwardly to the side, sniffing and wiping his eyes with his dirty sleeves. 

“Tommy-”

“I don’t want you to leave, Wilbur. We need you here; I need you.” Tear streaks had washed some of the dirt off of his face in sad little streams. Wilbur stood up and pulled him into a hug and Tommy wrapped his arms around his waist so tightly, he wondered if the boy would ever let go. Tubbo sadly rubbed circles into his back while Tommy buried his face in Wilbur’s coat.   
“When I get where I’m going, I’ll give you my cords so you can visit.” He said, trying to console the blonde teen, who only cried harder.

“You’re leaving?” Wilbur only nodded in response to Technoblade, who had appeared silently beside Philza sometime in the past few minutes.   
“I understand.” There was more meaning behind the man’s words than he let on, and he gave Wilbur a small half-smile. 

“Do you have to leave right now? Can’t you wait a little bit?” Tubbo pulled on his sleeve to get his attention, something he almost never did, proclaiming it was too childish. 

“Yeah. I have to get a head start before the mobs spawn.” Wilbur ruffled his hair lightly, accidentally brushing over where the boy’s small horns were growing in. Tubbo winced at the touch. Similar to how teenage molars grow in, they hadn’t broken through yet, and the area was still quite sensitive and painful. 

“Sorry, Tubbo. I forgot about your little nubs.” Wilbur laughed as the boy glared at him, muttering something about how they were not ‘nubs’. 

The sun had started to set, painting the sky in a beautiful array of pinks and oranges as a gorgeous but painful reminder of Wilbur’s leaving. Philza gave him another tight hug, and he found himself promising not to do anything dangerous, although his father probably knew better. After Tubbo forced him to check and double-check all of his supplies, Technoblade suddenly reappeared and handed Wilbur his most prized weapon, a netherite axe. 

“Techno, this is-”

“Yes. And I want you to have it.” Although he wasn’t one for displaying affection, Technoblade let Wilbur give him a quick side hug and clapped him on the back once he was released. 

Wilbur waved goodbye one last time and set off. He didn’t quite know where he was going, and he didn’t quite know what he was doing, but he was finally truly free.


	2. Misfortunes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the dream team's first appearance!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the shorter chapter, i just had to get this one out!

The sun peeked through a gap in the mountains, a signal that morning was fast approaching. As the surrounding area was soaking in soft orange light, Dream narrowed his eyes, his fingertips grazing over the hilt of his axe. Even though it was picturesque, he couldn’t help but notice the chilling way the wind hit the hair on the back of his neck, sending every sense in his body on edge. 

A chest opened nearby, and he looked to the side to see George pulling out a few diamonds and sticks.   
“What’re you doing?” 

George rolled his eyes and shut the chest. “Sapnap said we needed loads more logs and my old axe broke, I’m just getting materials to craft a new one.” Dream watched as the shorter man put the items in his inventory and crossed his arms across his chest. 

“Did you not enchant your other one?” Dream let his fingers rest on the smooth porcelain mask for a minute before he pulled it down over his face and fastened it.   
George scoffed. “You used the last mending book so I couldn’t.” Dream huffed in response, still looking at the rising sun. The floor under his feet pulsed slightly, vibrations ricocheting off of George’s steps. Before the man even spoke, Dream knew he was right behind him.   
“What’s wrong with you this morning?” 

“Something feels… off. I don’t know how to describe it.” George’s light touch floated down from his elbow to his hand and Dream turned to look at him. 

“Try then.” Warmth radiated from the shorter man’s soft words, curling around Dream like a thick cloud of emotion. Smothering him and holding him tightly. 

Dream shrugged him off. “C’mon George, I can’t do this right now. I’ve got too much on my mind.” George pulled down his white goggles over his eyes and stepped back, a trace of disappointment flickering across his pale cheeks. 

“Fine. Let’s just go help Sapnap get his shit.” The sound of his footsteps retreating across the wooden floor plays over and over in Dream’s head; he’s heard it so often that he’s memorized each time the planks creak, memorized the length of George’s strides, memorized the exact moment when their absence causes his chest to clench. 

Alone with his thoughts once again, he stares at a small family of sheep grazing on the hills a few chunks away. The ewe nudges her lamb away from the edge with her head, bleating happily when it tips its head down and eats a small clump of grass closer to its mother. He watches them with a smidge of guilt, feeling for them as they don’t know their own bloody future and how it will come about. He hopes his memory and second of fleeting fondness for them is gone by the time they are slaughtered. 

Dream takes a moment to absorb every detail he can about the surrounding land. Trees towering into the sky boast their strength and the power of nature, lakes teeming with schools of fish shine and sparkle, reflecting the light of the sun, the soil under his very feet- fertile and nutrient-rich. He picked this area for a reason, wanting to make something that would last and stand the test of time. 

Something that was his.


End file.
